Chapter 12

For the next twelve days, the children knew a life that made them forget the reality beyond those four walls – at least for a moment or two. Each morning, they rose, washed the sleep from their faces, brushed their teeth, and ate a breakfast of pancakes and cured bacon. In the afternoon, they played board games, read old magazines, and listened to scratchy records playing songs from long before they were born. In the evening, they ate frozen dinners warmed in the oven and laughed watching movies with people they didn't recognize. Sometimes, they would sit on the porch as the sun went down, drinking lemonade and telling meandering stories.

The house ran on solar panels installed on long racks some five hundred yards from the house, out in the open desert, far from the shadows of the granite formations. Inside the two-story house, the water ran hot, and electricity lit every room. In the kitchen, an electric range warmed their food, and a double door freezer held vacuum-sealed cuts of beef, deer, rabbit, and pork. In the walk-in pantry, packaged and canned foods stacked every inch of the shelves, including peanut butter, dried fruits, jerky, powdered milk, cereal, and chocolate.

For the first few days, Isaac had to lie on the sofa with his foot raised. By the end of the first week, he was able to limp around the house by himself. But his fear of the creature, Jeremy, never dissipated. Throughout the day, the creature performed his daily tasks. He mowed the lawn, pulled weeds from the bed of carnations, and tread down the path to the garage where he tinkered under the hood of abandoned cars. Sometimes, he swept the porch or washed dishes that were not there.

Simon spent most of his days next to Jeremy, which had made Isaac all the more uncomfortable. How could his brother have no fear around this creature? What if its brain is continuing to rot and the last faint memories of being human are consumed? Isaac watched from the porch as Simon taught Jeremy how to throw a football on the front lawn. The ball, more times than not, would bounce off the creature's leg or chest or face, but occasionally, he would catch it in his meaty hands before letting it drop to the grass.

Katie too seemed to have no fear. She and Simon would spend hours teaching Jeremy how to play Monopoly, but the creature only stared blankly at the board.

On the dawn of the thirteenth day, Isaac awoke with the anxiety that had been with him the last few days, only now it was stronger, an inescapable feeling close to panic. He knew the cause of it. It was the same reason why they had left the cabin and set off on the highway. This place was not home. And the longer they waited, the farther away home felt.

Isaac got up from the bed. Simon was sleeping as he usually did – in the middle, with his arm and leg draped over Katie. Swinging his legs to the floor, Isaac quietly walked to the dresser where framed faded photos took up most of the space. One in particular always held his interest - a slight man in slacks and a dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar had his arm around the waist of a woman in a dark dress. They were a young couple, younger than his parents, smiling and posing in front of the house the children were in now. Old photos usually made him feel afraid, for they were pictures of usually dead people, but this one comforted him. There was love once in this house. He knew that.

He set down the framed picture, limped to the window, and peeked through the lace curtains. It was dark and quiet outside. Knowing that it would be light soon, and too late to return to sleep, he decided to go out for some air and to plan their next step. He liked to sit on a chair next to the gas pumps and keep his eyes on the highway, which seemed to him a physical connection to his parents. So he stepped lightly downstairs and peeked at the basement door to make sure it was still closed. Jeremy was down there, chained to the pipes, most likely staring into the darkness, like he always did. Isaac gave the doorknob a quick twist to make sure it was still locked and headed out the front door into the night air.

His ankle was healed, mostly. Occasionally, a dull pain pulsed whenever he put weight on it, but it was bearable, and the bruising had mostly disappeared, leaving only a small blotting of purple and red.

He walked down the dirt path toward the service station as the horizon behind him began to lighten. He had thought about staying in the house for a longer time, to eat the preserved food in the pantry, watch movies late into the night, and sleep deep into the morning, but he was afraid of what would happen if he became too comfortable. Even now, the thought of being back on the road was weighing on him.

Almost at the service station, he glanced at the neatly stacked tires behind the garage. Next to them was a canvas tarp over what looked to be an automobile. Long before, as they were moving through small towns, they had seen several abandoned cars, but the thought of trying to drive one had terrified him, as much as the idea of having to fly an airplane.

But he did try once, a short time before he and Simon had met Katie. They were resting under the shade of a tree when they saw a sedan drive erratically toward them on the road. It swerved, at times, driving off the shoulder, until it struck a row of mailboxes, knocking them to the ground. A creature, with sparse white hair and hunched back, stepped out of the car, wearing a disheveled suit and a fresh daisy in its lapel. It looked around him with abrupt motions of the head, then tottered away from the crash, not even having inspected the damage, and disappeared into the adjacent field.

Simon and Isaac heard the engine still running and ran to the car, as quietly as possible, intending to take it to an area where they had hidden their supplies. The driver-side door was left open, and Isaac slipped behind the wheel while Isaac got into the passenger seat. Isaac closed the door, scanned the dizzying array of controls, and tried to back up the car by putting it into reverse. But no matter how hard he pulled down on the lever, it wouldn't budge. He frantically tried different combinations, stepping down on the pedals, which made the car shake and lurch backwards. Isaac panicked and slammed down a pedal, but the car only sped up and backed into a ditch by the side of the road, where it came to a jolting stop. The boys scrambled out of the car and and ran all the way back to their wagon as if being chased by a swarm of hornets, having decided that walking, for the time being, was the safer option.

Since that time, they had not come across any car that was drivable. Most did not have keys. Others were drained of gasoline.

Isaac was at the tarp, which was covered with dirt, and he yanked it off to reveal an old truck with faded green paint and rusted chrome trim. It resembled those classic trucks he had seen on display at the fair that he used to go to with his father, but this one had tires that were partially deflated, and the leather seats were ripped in a few places. He spotted a gas cap next to the passenger door. He unscrewed it, put his nose close to the opening, and smelled gasoline.

If somehow they could get the truck started, it could mean safe passage through the desert. He thoroughly searched the interior for the key, but was unable to find it. He limped back into the house where he saw Katie lying on the sofa reading a magazine and Simon playing Monopoly with Jeremy on the living room floor.

Simon rolled the dice and moved the thimble around the board. "See, you rolled an eight. No one owns that property. You can either choose to buy it or not."

Jeremy remained silent.

"Okay, not," said Simon gleefully. "I guess that's just more properties for me."

Isaac knelt next to him.

"Simon," he said, "I need you to go ask Jeremy something. Ask him where the key to the truck is."

"What truck?" he asked.

"The truck that's… follow me. I need you guys to see something."

The children and Jeremy stood in front of the old truck.

"It doesn't even look like it would start," said Katie. "Are you sure about this, Isaac?"

"No, but it won't matter if we can't find the key. Simon, ask Jeremy where the key is."

"Why don't you ask him? He's standing right here."

"He responds to you better. So just ask him."

Simon turned to Jeremy and spoke slowly and clearly.

"Key… We need the key… to the truck." Simon mimed the motions of starting a car. "Vrroooom! Vrrooom! You know… key!"

Isaac and Katie waited with anticipation.

"Key," said Simon.

Jeremy turned abruptly and walked into the desert. The children glanced at one another and followed. About two hundred paces from the service station, Jeremy stopped at a large rock formation that resembled the head of a dragon. He tilted his head and considered it for a long while. Then he dropped to his knees at the base and began digging into the dirt with his bare hands.

"What is he doing?" asked Katie.

Isaac sighed and bit his lip out of frustration.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go back and search in the office. It must be here somewhere." He turned and headed back.

"Let's go, Jeremy," said Simon, gently pulling on his arm.

"Let him be," said Katie. "He'll be fine. Let's go help your brother."

They searched throughout the office and garage, finding jars of coins, paper clips, and screws. At one point, Isaac uncovered a set of keys looped through a piece of wire twisted together, and they had all excitedly gone to the truck to try each one. They took a deep breath every time he tried a key as if he were about to unlock a treasure chest, but none of them were the right fit.

Disappointed, they were about to return to the garage to resume their search when they saw Jeremy, carrying something in his hands, approaching from the desert.

He came up to them, his hands and coveralls covered in the red dirt, and gave Simon the object that he had been carrying. It was a tin box with the word "Bread" written in cursive on the side.

Simon opened the lid. Colored photographs of the man and woman Isaac had seen in the photos on the dresser were scattered about. The top one showed them when they were older, sitting in the living room of the house. The man sat in an armchair with his leg crossed and smoking a pipe. The woman, smiling broadly, was sitting on the sofa and holding a swaddled baby. Other photos were in the box – these of a young boy on a motorbike somewhere in the desert or posing atop a large boulder.

Baseball cards, vintage toy trucks, a hand-carved yo-yo were also there. And underneath them all was a key with shallow cuts and a rounded head.